


Von Willebrand factor

by ArtsyAfrodite



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Boyfriends, Gallavich, Healing, I seriously don't know how to tag sometimes, Love, M/M, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:54:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyAfrodite/pseuds/ArtsyAfrodite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You bruise me so easily sometimes,” Ian breathes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Von Willebrand factor

**Author's Note:**

> Between having some writer's block, going through this thing called life and being seriously emotional lately - this happened.

“I need to get some air.”

_But I’m right here._ Mickey reflects to himself without lending a word as he watches Ian get up from the bar, leaving his words there.  He slumps forward, bones softening from the sound of his voice.  Ian’s making his way towards the back exit of the Alibi, but turns first to catch the look on his face.  The worry is apparent in the lines that form in Mickey’s forehead, the seriousness in his blue eyes, and the way the muscles in his jaw tighten.  Ian knows what he’s thinking.

“I can breathe without you Mick,” Ian says as he turns to walk away, causing Mickey to slump a little more.

He’s broken underneath Ian’s skin, seeping in between and spreading.

////

Several of his moods lean against the fence, metal digging in his spine and unnoticed.  Drag after drag on the cigarette he wishes he was smoking is poisonous to his thoughts, the curses under his breath and chewing of fingernails making up for the near religious experience nicotine once gave him.  It was apostasy quitting it seems.

Ian sucks in the thick, humid air through his nostrils, the smell of the Southside in the summertime that of piss in the alleyways and the drunk homeless man asleep by the dumpster.  It’s the reek of smoke and booze seeping under the backdoor of the Alibi.  It’s the countless men that have been underneath his thighs as he danced, the void of a child who never sat in daddy’s lap filled by Tom, Dick and Harry.  It’s Canaryville.  The Milkovich house.  The up-downs.  _Boystown._  

It’s Mickey on his skin, pore seeped and bound to always be there – a scent he knows he’ll never forget and needs.

“Wanna talk about it?” Mickey’s voice falls on Ian’s ears from behind.

Ian shrugs as he continues to chew his nails, biting away the shame, trying to forget the Scarlett letter seemingly branded on his chest.  “You did that already,” Ian exhales, “without me.”

“You were right there.”

“I was, but somehow you managed to speak as if I wasn’t.”  Ian turns towards Mickey and his eyes almost choke him.  He has to look away to catch a breath.

Ian left the dance floor of Fairytale behind months ago, but it seems many of the choices he made while he was there followed him.  They’re relentless and carry the weight of the albatross, rattle and haunt like Marley’s ghost.  Too many times the sting in his eyes from the tears fallen left him empty and ashamed.  But he’d quit for Mickey and together one night they gave raw honesty a try, old veils melted until only vulnerability remained.

_“I’ll tell you all my secrets,” Ian whispered into Mickey’s neck._

_He gripped around Ian’s waist tighter, reciprocating the openness, breathing out, “And I’ll give you all my fears.”_

And now there’s a soft sting between them.  Its building, burrowing, and leaving scars as proof that love was there and is far from easy.  Ian’s eyes lament, but the rest of him remains together.  Mickey feels himself crumbling at the site, the obvious tearing at the seams something he experiences vicariously as he watches Ian.  _Really watches._   He feels insensitive for the way he talked about what his boyfriend used to do, tossing around unnecessary banter with Kev.  It was careless and once again, he knows he’s caused a deep mark.

“I’m not proud of the things I’ve done,” Ian offers, “but I love you way too much to let that overshadow us.”

Mickey’s shoulders fall, the shuffling of his feet as he lessens the space between him and Ian, tedious and heavy.  “I’m sorry for talking about you like that,” he apologizes.  And despite him leaving out the graphic details, keeping the devil at bay, the things he alluded to were enough to hit where Ian was already sore.  “It won’t happen again.”

Ian finally allows Mickey to completely close the distance between them, pressing their foreheads together.  He grips Mickey by his forearms, pressing his fingertips deep into the flesh.  It’s tangible and familiar and comforting.  It reminds him that what they have is real and can be held.  It also reminds him that what they have can also be wounded, but it’s nothing that doesn’t come with the ability to mend.

It’s all flesh and blood – it’s _human_.

“You bruise me so easily sometimes,” Ian breathes out. 

Mickey inhales his exhale, knowing for sure he _can_ breathe without him.  He also knows he can bruise _with_ him.  But there’s the repair that takes the both of them, the restoration and melding of things that can be broken along the way.  A thought crosses his mind, something he wants to say at the tip of his tongue.  But Ian knows and completes his thought, giving words to what’s already known between the both of them.

“But I can’t heal without you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this short fic to the songs, "The War" and "Skin" by Josh Record. I've been listening to him like crazy lately, and in the midst of all my emotions, I literally got a pen and paper (old school) and wrote. There's something significant in the way we bruise and heal, especially the figurative bruising we can experience in love. I feel like Ian and Mickey are the embodiment of that. In the end, they may get cuts and bruises along the way in their relationship, but they need each other to heal - for any bleeding they experience to clot. Hence, Von Willebrand factor. I hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! :)))


End file.
